I’m moved by some of the stories posted on the Alzheimer’s message boards. And here’s one of ‘em, written by a woman named Angela. Made me a bit sad. But happy, too. Because there will be survivors and loving memories.
Hello, I am new here. This is my first post. I got out of bed a little while ago and actually have an hour of free time. I am a wife and mother of 3 boys, ages 13, 11, and 6. I am also the daughter to a wonderful woman that is in the last stages of Alzheimer's. My parents are my best friends. They always have been. My story really is a long one, but I will try to make it short. My mother has been diagnosed for a few years. She is only 63 years old. My dad, who also is very dear to me, kept her at home as long as he could. He still works full time (he is only 61). I would go over to take care of her every day on my lunch. In June, on my lunch, I found her passed out on the floor under the bed covered in bloody stool and urine. I got her somewhat awake and sat and held her until help arrived. She cried and kept calling me "mommy." I knew when we left she would never return home. After a 7-day hospital stay we had to take her to a nursing home, which has been a nightmare at times. She has had 2 more hospital stays since then. Her kidneys are enlarged and she cannot ever go with out a catheter now. She has had non-stop kidney infections. She does not walk now, and when we are not there she cries for us all day long while we are working. She calls my dad her daddy and me her mommy. We go see her every day. My dad goes every night and buys her something to eat and a milkshake, which she rarely eats/drinks. Her speech is very bad. She was always a calm gentle person and she curses the nurses and hits them. She does not leave her room at all. She has no awareness of the outside world or where she is. Her bowels are completely incontinent. If you leave the room and come back in she has no idea we were there a minute ago. When I go I clean her room because the nurses don't and I just sit with her. There are so many things I want to say, but I know she would not understand so I don't say them because I don't want to confuse her further. I bought her a baby doll, which I believe was the best thing I could do. She calls him by my youngest son's name. She really thinks he is a baby and hers. It gives her some companionship while we are not there. I am just a mess. I worry about my dad being so lonely. I see him go home into an empty house and know he has nothing. I also am trying to be a wife and mom to 3 boys that have multiple extra curricular activities. I work full time. I cry in my sleep because I can't fix this and I worry non-stop. I feel like I am being stretched so many ways and I have nobody to talk to. My husband changes the subject when I tell him I am falling apart. He doesn't understand why I have to go every day to see her. We live about 20 miles from the nursing home. I know I am rambling, but this is just pouring out of me. Sorry. I went to Kohl's last night by myself to get away. They had Christmas music playing and tears just started flowing down my cheeks. I probably looked like a crazed goof ball. Christmas was my mom's favorite, I don't know how I can enjoy it or if she'll even make it until then. My dad is just so devastated. He won't come over and visit or anything because he said if she can't (come to), he just can't. I love my mom and dad so much. What do you do to make this better?
Here’s what I told Angela:
You express yourself very well. You know how to share your feelings. That's exactly what you have to keep doing. And at some point, you have to accept what is happening. To you. To your mom. And your dad. To the entire family. The goodness I see in all this is that you genuinely love the people around you. And it's sad to see them suffer. It hurts. Not only them. But you. But this happens. Love hurts. But in the long run, the good feelings of love prevail. Time will heal the wounds. And you'll be so thankful for having loved and for having been loved. Really, there's nothing better than that. I think that losing a loved one hurts more than anything. But ultimately, you learn that's a price worth paying. Because there's nothing more precious than love. –Jim Broede
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6 comments:
The thing is, people post on the message boards, not here. Most of the time, they do not tell other family members about the board, so they can somewhat let it all out. I know it is a public board, the internet, all that, but I do think there is a reasonable expectation that their thoughts, circumstances, and feelings will remain there, until and unless they, themselves choose to post them elsewhere. You are forcing exposure to all this, by stealing these writings, and posting them here. I know, I know, how YOU feel about this, but it is a shame that you do not consider THEIR feelings about it.
Your only saving grace may be that people other than a few board members, do NOT read this.
This person also said she usually keeps those things inside, and it took courage for her to post.
Shame on you, for taking advantage, once again, without even asking.
Anonymous #1:
I'm not stealing anyone's writings. I'm spreading the writings. Giving the writings more exposure. Hey, that's a good thing. Not a bad thing. You've got to start thinking more positively, dear anonymous. And a good way to start is to recognize my goodness. I'm spreading good cheer. And hey, people are flocking here. Look at the counter. We're about to eclipse 12,000 hits. That's not bad for this little fledgling blog. Allow me to thank you for your support -- for merely showing up. Often, I presume. Even if you don't have anything nice to say, you're still welcome. I think that deep down, you really like me. And you like this blog, too. Otherwise, you wouldn't keep coming. --Jim Broede
P.S. If people who post on the Alzheimer's message boards are afraid to express their feelings to family members -- well, then that's sad. They need to cultivate a better and more sharing and open relationship with their immediate family.
Anonymous #2:
I hardly consider you as an expert in courage. I wonder if you even know what courage is. You don't even have the courage to use your name. You hide your identity. Maybe some day you'll summon up enough courage to be you. Now you act like a mere nobody. Without so much as a name. Show me a bit more courage and maybe you'll get my respect. --Jim Broede
Its wonderful that you have a safe haven to show your true colors. Its sad that you have to do it at the expense of caregivers. I truly thank God he took Jeannie home
Dear Anonymous:
Some of you are so full of hate -- that it just amazes me. Some of the more hateful comments I don't even bother to post. But yours, I'm allowing. Just to show readers how hateful and spiteful some of you get. Your only reason for showing up on this blog is to post a hateful comment. Indeed, that's sad. And one reason why you remain anonymous. You haven't got the guts to sign your name. Because it's quite possible you are ashamed of yourself. As you well should be. --Jim Broede
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